


aria of the sun and the moon

by SunflowerEnthusiast



Category: A3! (Video Game)
Genre: M/M, a fic set in harugaoka quartet's world
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-08
Updated: 2019-04-08
Packaged: 2020-01-06 19:26:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18394826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SunflowerEnthusiast/pseuds/SunflowerEnthusiast
Summary: Tojo has been fascinated by Machida ever since he met him.





	aria of the sun and the moon

**Author's Note:**

> The summary is bad as always, and it makes it sound like there's actually development and plot in here, but actually, there's none. Absolutely 0. It's a very typical, cheesy high school story because apparently I don't know how to write anything else. 
> 
> Anyway, this is Tojo x Machida from harugaoka quartet story, but since Chikage and Itaru play those characters, I ended up tagging them. I've recently been fascinated with them because it's like music au without me having to come up with the background for the story, and I love? Music au? At any rate, this fic is really cheesy, but I hope you can either laugh at the clichés or enjoy it in some way!

When Tojo is in his first year at Harugaoka, he's called a prodigy. Personally, he knows that he's talented, but he wouldn't call himself a prodigy, really. He's sure that there are plenty of other violin players out there that are just as good as he is, if not better. He ignores the people who call him a prodigy and fawn over him, and he continues about his business, winning competitions and becoming more and more well-known. 

Opposite to Tojo, there's an unpopular student at this academy who not many people know of. He's quiet at first glance, but if he opens up to you, he talks passionately about music, the very opposite of his passive demeanor that he shows to the world. 

Right—Machida, Tojo's classmate, and the one person in this school that he feels comfortable being with. 

Machida, in Tojo's opinion, is a genius, but his odd pieces get little recognition from their teachers who are stuck in their ways and the students who follow their lead. Tojo was put-off by that, but Machida just laughs it off, content to play quietly for Tojo's sake. Tojo is flattered by that, but he thinks Machida deserves more recognition. 

Today as well, Tojo sits next to Machida, watching as his slender fingers seem to dance over the keys of the piano. They've just entered their third year at this school—their last year. Tojo plans on making the most of it and aiming for as many top prizes as he can, but Machida plans to take it easy, since the teachers never recommend him for competitions. Tojo hates that, but Machida doesn't mind, content to make his own music. 

“Hey.” 

“Hmm?” Machida slows down his tempo, changing songs, so that he can talk to Tojo. A precious gem blinks at him from the side, the fuchsia of Machida's eyes bright as ever. 

“Why did you come to this school if you never planned on entering competitions and aiming higher? You could have just gone to a regular high school and played the piano there,” Tojo points out, frowning at his only friend in this place. Of course he's happy that Machida came to this school because that's the only reason why they know each other, but he can't help but think Machida could have just gone elsewhere. Besides, it's strange that he's here in the first place. This school is very prestigious, and in order to get in, the board must have approved of Machida's ability. So why…? 

Machida hums, slowing to a stop. He sighs, staring up at the ceiling. Tojo doesn't look away from his face. Even from the side, he's beautiful. He probably could have become a model if he wanted to, too. “You’re so insistent on me trying to 'aim higher.’ Does what I do dissatisfy you that much?” Machida turns with a wry smile on his face, but Tojo doesn't miss the hint of hurt in his eyes. 

“No, that's not…”  _ Is _ that why Tojo wants Machida to enter competitions? No, that's not right. Tojo loves Machida's music as it is, and he would never try to change it. He wants Machida to play the piano forever. Then… “That’s not it,” Tojo says, firmly, correcting his hesitant tone from before. “I like your music as it is, and that's exactly why. I think you could do a lot better if you just tried. Who cares what the teachers think? Tell them that you want to enter a competition. They can advise you not to, but they can't force you not to enter. If you enter a competition, I'm sure everyone will realize how great your music is.” 

Machida looks surprised by Tojo's words, but the surprise soon melts into a soft expression as a little smile graces his lips. “You’re very convincing, I'll give you that,” Machida chuckles, wistfully looking over the keys of the piano. 

But Tojo knows what that answer means. “So you're not even going to try.” Tojo's mouth forms a tight line. Machida looks up at him apologetically, fuchsia gems glittering between his eyelashes. 

“… I'm sorry, Tojo. I just can't.” 

Tojo stands up abruptly, surprising Machida. “And why not?” Tojo demands, glaring down at Machida, who stares up at him in shock. “Why can't you? You've never even tried! How could you know?” 

Machida blinks rapidly, as if trying to fight back his emotions. Tojo notices that his fingers are shaking. “I just…” Tojo waits for the continuation, but he doesn't say anything else. Exasperated, Tojo crosses his arms. 

“What?” When Machida still doesn't say anything, just blankly staring at the floor, Tojo flings his arms upward in defeat. “You know what? Forget it. I don't know why I tried to help you when you obviously can't even help yourself,” Tojo spits the last part, grabbing his violin case off of a stool and storming out of the practice room. Machida doesn't chase after him, doesn't say anything. Yeah, whatever. Tojo doesn't know why he expected anything out of Machida. Even though they've grown to be what he thought to be good friends, Machida always seemed to have something he kept hidden, some unspoken  _ thing _ that he couldn't share with Tojo. Maybe that should have been the alarm bell going off. Tojo shouldn't have even bothered for all this time. 

Tojo grits his teeth, denying the emotions building in his chest. All the regret, all the pain, all the anger, all the frustration, all the sadness—

That year, Tojo wins every competition he enters, his raw, emotional performances bringing both his competition and the judges to their knees. Tojo feels nothing when he wins, realizing that he's lost the person he's celebrated all his victories with. The one person in this school who wanted to know Tojo the person, not Tojo the prodigy—the one person who would laugh and talk to him like a normal person—

His safe haven amidst all the pressure and expectations. 

_ Ah…  _

And maybe the one who Tojo could call his first love. 

The realization doesn't strike him as odd, considering that Tojo has thought before how weird it is that Machida's very existence enraptures him. He's pretty, yeah—anyone with eyes can see that. But, there were always other things that fascinated Tojo as well. His music was a big one—ranging from dramatic pieces inspired by video games to funny melodies he'd come up with off of a whim. His work ethic was another. Despite not seeming to like playing traditional music, Machida always completed his assignments according to what the teachers wanted. Then, smaller things. Machida's triumphant smile when he nailed a difficult part. His penchant for humming that one anime's opening song when he's happy. The way his eyes would light up when Tojo played his violin for him. 

It's almost comical how Tojo didn't notice sooner.

He wrote it off as his admiration for Machida, but looking back on it, that wasn't right at all. Of course he admired Machida. Tojo has liked his music ever since he first heard it. But that's not all. Machida was always different—special. The rush Tojo got talking to him, playing music with him, simply spending time with him… That was something he'd never felt for another person before. He's sure that his feelings for Machida weren't just feelings he would have for a friend. 

But he still let him go. 

Ever since that day, Tojo never saw Machida again. Machida 'suddenly' changed classes, and Tojo ended up going through the year without seeing him again. Machida never messaged him, and Tojo never messaged Machida. Neither of them tried to apologize or take any steps toward rebuilding their friendship. Tojo's pride stopped him every time, along with that little voice in the back of his mind telling him that it was all Machida's fault. 

But now as he sits alone after the graduation ceremony, he's starting to think he shouldn't have listened to that voice. 

He doesn't know where Machida will go after this. Machida could block him on all messaging services, so that Tojo can never get into contact with him. At this rate, it wouldn't be a surprise if Tojo never saw Machida again. And he doesn't want that. He's still angry and hurt that Machida never trusted him enough to confide in him, but… 

But he doesn't want to lose him forever. 

“Ah, Tojo,” a teacher is heading out, and Tojo is reminded that he's just sitting in the lobby of the school. The teacher, who Tojo can't remember the name of right now, smiles lopsidedly. “Can’t bear to leave your youth behind, eh? Enjoy it while it lasts. You'll miss it when it's gone,” he says with a wistful look in his eyes. 

Tojo puts on a fake smile. “You’re right. I'll remember your advice,” he smiles gratefully, and the teacher buys into it with a hearty laugh. 

“Good, good! Ah, by the way, you and Machida are friends, right?” 

Tojo freezes, but luckily, the teacher doesn't notice. Tojo forgot that it became a fairly well-known fact in the school that Tojo preferred to hang out with Machida and only Machida. Though, it's a mystery that those observers didn't really notice that they had a falling out… “Yes, I am,” Tojo lies through his teeth because he has no idea what else to say. Going into details is too complicated, and it's not something Tojo wants to tell this guy. 

“Right, I thought so! That boy, did he tell you what he's doing after he's graduating? Always did worry about that one,” the teacher sighs exaggeratedly. He doesn't seem to care that he's asking for information on a student. 

Well, whatever. “No, he didn't.” Of course, this answer is the truth. 

“Ah, not even you, huh. He's always been a little clammed up ever since  _ that _ happened,” the teacher shakes his head. 

Tojo blinks. “That,” he repeats, dumbfounded. What is this guy talking about? 

The teacher seems surprised. “Oh, you don't know? I guess it makes sense. It was right at the beginning of your guys' first year, so most people don't know. Plus, I understand why Machida wouldn't want to talk about it.” This guy must like to gossip, because he goes on without a second thought. Though, Tojo is actually grateful for that because he wants to know what this teacher is talking about. “Machida was accepted into this school because he had so much talent. Everything about the way he plays the piano is beautiful and brilliant—almost as if it's a ethereal. Because of that, his teacher entered him into a piano competition at the beginning of the year.” 

What? Machida actually entered a competition? And at the recommendation of his teacher? 

“Machida seemed like he was ready, and he did just fine in the rehearsal. But when it came down to the real performance, something happened to him. He just couldn't play the way that he used to. I heard that it was because the top brass competitor there intimidated him before the competition, but we all thought Machida would get over it. But he never did. He refused to enter any more competitions, and he went back to composing his weird music. Originally he only played that music, but his teacher in middle school encouraged him to play traditionally and eventually enter this school. Well, that turned out to be a waste since Machida gave up on ever being a professional after his trauma at that competition.” The teacher sighs heavily. “Sure we were disappointed because he had so much potential, but the kid had it rough. When he couldn't play, the crowd wouldn't stop whispering bad things about him. Machida hasn't been the same ever since.” 

Tojo feels like he's frozen. 

He's never heard about any of this. Not even a single word of it. Why didn't he ever know that Machida had to go through such a traumatizing experience? Why didn't Machida trust him enough to tell him? 

—No. Machida trusted him, no doubt. It was just too painful for him to talk about, and he probably didn't want Tojo to feel sorry for him. Machida is more prideful than he looks. He wouldn't want anyone to pity him. 

Tojo feels sick. He never should have pushed Machida that hard. “I’m sorry, but I have to go. It's getting late,” Tojo quickly excuses himself. 

“Ah, you're right. Well, be careful on your way home, and congratulations on graduating!” The teacher doesn't seem to care at all about Tojo's lack of a comment on Machida's story, and Tojo's grateful for that. 

Tojo bows quickly in thanks before dashing out of the building. Of course, he has no plans on going home. There's only one thing on his mind. 

He has to find Machida. 

Screw it. Machida's at fault for not saying anything, too, but Tojo should've been more careful. Hindsight may be 20/20, but he should've noticed that there was something wrong when Machida would go quiet whenever Tojo asked him about entering competitions himself. He shouldn't have been so pushy. And he definitely shouldn't have gotten that upset when he realized Machida had no plans of entering any competitions this year. 

He whips out his phone, texting Machida quickly. 

_ Where are you? We need to talk. _

To his frustration, Machida doesn't reply. Tojo curses, looking around the school grounds. He's not sure if Machida would still be here… Machida never liked being outside much, so he assumes he wouldn't be out on campus somewhere or on a rooftop. That leaves indoor locations, but security should have cleared just about everyone out by now. That leaves… 

Suddenly, Tojo remembers. Machida off-handedly mentioned once that there's a park near the school that he likes to visit because there's a fountain there that he likes. At the time, Tojo thought that he was stupid for liking a fountain, but he couldn't be more grateful now. He takes off, rushing out of the campus and down the street to the park. It's not very far away at all. He runs down the street and soon spots it across the street on the right up ahead, so he waits for the light and then crosses the intersection into the park. Despite it still being in the evening, basically no one is in the park. No one except for—

Tojo grips the strap of his trusty violin case, gathering his courage. 

Machida is standing in front of the fountain that he claimed to like so much, staring into it silently. The fountain is pretty, Tojo will give it that—it’s a multi-level fountain, with the base, two extra levels, and finally the top, where water spouts out of a dolphin's mouth. Glittering coins litter the bottom of the fountain, and Tojo idly wonders if Machida ever threw one of those into it. 

Machida notices Tojo's footsteps and looks up to see who's coming. When their eyes lock, Machida's eyes widen in surprise. The glow of the evening sunlight casts shadows over his face, but even then, he's just as breathtaking as when Tojo last saw him. 

Tojo feels his heart skip a beat. He definitely still has feelings for Machida. 

Machida's expression becomes troubled as he looks to the side, at a loss for words. “… What are you doing here? You should be at home enjoying today with your family,” Machida points out. In contrast to his appearance and the melodious lilt of his voice, his words are as manly as ever, making Tojo smile unwittingly at the contrast. Machida blinks at his smile, and then he looks away, unsure of how to react. 

“I need to talk to you. Did you get my message?” Tojo already knows the answer even before Machida shakes his head. Tojo sighs in exasperation, crossing his arms. Honestly. Machida is so stubborn sometimes. 

Tojo opens his mouth to begin, but before he can, Machida seems to steel himself and blurts out, “Wait, before you go, let me say something first.” Well, at least he isn't running away. Tojo nods in consent. Machida takes a deep breath, knuckles white at his sides with how hard he's clenching his fists. “I’m really sorry. I never should have closed myself off when you would ask me about competitions, and because of me not being able to talk about myself, our friendship was ruined. I'm… really sorry.” Machida's lip quivers, and he bites down on it as his eyes water. Tojo snorts quietly at the mess he is, but on the inside, he's being wracked by the same emotions as Machida. 

Tojo exhales, hoping to expel all his anxiousness with it. He looks at Machida, looks at his crumbling expression from the pressure of the situation, and he steps closer. Luckily, Machida doesn't move away, and Tojo gently wipes away a stray tear that's traveling down his cheek. Machida glares up at him weakly. “I hate it when you treat me like I'm breakable,” he mumbles, repeating something he said a long time ago when Tojo patched him up after he slipped in the hall. Tojo lets out a breathy laugh, ruffling his hair affectionately. Machida is still glaring at him. 

It makes more sense, now. Machida knew that Tojo had no idea what he went through, but that didn't change the fact that Machida hated being babied in any sort of way. When Tojo would be gentle with him, Machida would reject that treatment, probably because it hurt his pride and because, like he says, he hates being treated like he's breakable—fragile. He wants to be seen as strong, and, really, he is. Machida's a lot stronger than he looks at first glance, and Tojo isn't talking about physical strength. 

Deciding that he should be truthful now, Tojo smiles and says, “I don't treat you this way because I think you're fragile. It's because that's just how important you are to me.” Machida's eyes widen. Tojo reaches down, hooking his hand through one of Machida's, and he gives it a reassuring squeeze. Maybe that was more for Tojo than Machida, though, because he can feel his smile cracking as regret washes over him. “… I'm sorry, too,” Tojo whispers, fighting against the lump in his throat. “I shouldn't have pushed you that hard. I should have respected you, and just left that topic alone.” Tojo hesitates, but he has to say it. “A teacher told me what you went through.” Machida inhales sharply, going stiff immediately. Tojo runs a thumb over his knuckles, hoping to comfort him in some small way. “I’m sorry—I’m sure you're angry that I heard from someone else. I could have left before he told me, but I was just too curious.” 

Machida blinks slowly, and then he shakes his head. “No… No, you don't have to apologize. I should have just told you myself, and it's not like it was a secret or anything. People who were there know how much of a failure I was.” 

“Hey,” Tojo reprimands him sharply, scowling at him disapprovingly, “you’re not a failure. Anyone could understand you not being able to perform after someone harassed you.” 

Machida laughs weakly. “And what about me never having the guts to get on stage again?” 

“The crowd wasn't exactly kind to you, either. Machida, you're not a failure.” 

Machida stares down at the ground for a moment before looking up at Tojo, a smile that's half-awed and half-troubled on his face. “Even though I'm being really uncool right now, how are you so cool, Tojo?” 

Tojo just grins, rapping him gently on the head and earning a yelp. “It’s because I'm great. Now, come on. Stop saying you're a failure.” 

Even though he's glaring at him, the smile on Machida's face is still happy “Fine, you win.” When Tojo smiles in triumph, Machida hesitantly asks, “So… are we okay now?” His expression is wavering, almost as if he doesn't dare to hope. But that answer should already be obvious. 

“Of course we are. And, just a warning,” Tojo pulls Machida closer, smirking at the red that dusts his cheeks immediately as Tojo's arm snakes around his waist, “but I won't be letting go so easily this time.” 

Cliché and cheesy. Tojo thinks he's ridiculous, really, and he can feel the humiliation building within him as Machida bursts out laughing. Machida laughs so hard that tears start to escape from his eyes, and Tojo grumbles to himself, trying to ignoring how hot his face feels. 

Finally, finally, Machida starts to calm down, wiping away his tears with his free hand. A few chuckles slip as Machida reaches up on his tip-toes, affectionately pressing their foreheads together and humming. “Then, I won't let go so easily, either. Don't complain when you get tired of me,” he teases, eyes sparkling in the setting sun. 

Tojo smiles, pulling him even closer. “I’ll never get tired of you, so I hope you're ready for a lifetime of enjoying my company.” 

Machida laughs quietly, muttering, “Narcissist,” before pressing a kiss against Tojo's cheek. Tojo can feel the blush on his face, and when Machida notices, he laughs again. “I thought you were supposed to be the cool one, Tojo.” 

“Shut up,” Tojo grumbles, and when Machida starts to laugh again, Tojo decides to shut him up with a kiss. 

Tojo knows that neither of them confessed exactly, but their words conveyed how they felt anyway. He'll probably tell Machida how he feels afterward (maybe, who knows, perhaps Tojo will hold off on it to get back at Machida for all the misery he's put him through), but for now, since Machida doesn't pull away, Tojo assumes their feelings are the same. He knows that they'll probably argue many more times in the future, and that there will be times they don't get along—

But for now, he just enjoys the moment, and hopes that he'll never have to part from the other again. 

**Author's Note:**

> Cheese is cheese. I feel like Tojo is melodramatic in this fic, but you know, I think he's funnier this way. I like the idea that he's really dramatic and emotional when he's younger, but by the time he comes to teach at harugaoka, he's really normal and calm. Machida would totally tease him about how he was when he was younger. 
> 
> I might write another one of these two because this kinda derailed and became not what I was aiming for originally, but hmm... not sure. Thank you for reading!


End file.
